What Will Become of Me? (TorrentClan Challenge)
by Honeystorm
Summary: Darkstorm is dying but he haven't been deemed worthy of joining either StarClan or the Dark Forest. What happens when he dies?


Darkstorm purred as he warmed his old bones by the human's fire. His human's fire. In some ways, his life as a kittypet had been far more rewarding than his life as a warrior. His lips curled into a feral snarl as he recalled his tender-hearted brother, Ashwhisker, who was a fool. He had fallen in love with Silverfur of FrostClan, and he, Darkstorm, had killed the she-cat to show Ashwhisker what a fool he was. But his own Clan, CherryClan, had cast out Darkstorm. "For murdering a cat in cold blood," his former leader had said. They had declared his name to be Forgotten. It was the thing that everyone feared. But why did he deserve exile when he had tried to do the best for his Clan?

"Darkie, are you alright?" asked his human.

No one had ever told him that they, cats, could understand humans. It had been a shock, but now, it was just a fact for Darkstorm. He accepted his nickname of "Darkie," as it was close to Darkstorm. He had once tried to explain who he was and what he was, but to no avail. It didn't matter anymore, not when he had as much food and shelter as he wanted, and his human had always allowed him to roam free. The only thing that he hated was his collar, which was put on him every time he went outside. But his human, an elderly female, had explained that it was so that he wouldn't get lost.

His human was clearly an elder in her community and her kits and grandkits occasionally visited. The youngest grandkit was annoying to Darkstorm, but he put up with him, as the human kit reminded Darkstorm of some of CherryClan's kits.

Darkstorm yawned in response and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed. He knew that he was dying but didn't mind. He was sure that he would go to StarClan because it was his duty to help his Clan, wasn't it?

Each breath was slower and harder than the last, but Darkstorm let himself go. He loved where he was now, with his human, warming their bones by the fire. A gray mist soon overcame him, and he felt more energetic than he had in seasons. Opening his eyes, he saw a misty field with trees scattered around it. There was no one around him.

Darkstorm was confused. He thought that he was destined for StarClan! Where was he? The Dark Forest? No, he thought in horror. It couldn't be.

"No, you aren't in the Dark Forest," said a cat from behind him.

Darkstorm jumped and turned, reflexes sharper than they had ever been. In front of him were two cats. She-cats. One was long-furred and dark ginger, with the piercing green eyes that was common to the females of Cherrystar's line. The other was long-furred and pure white with blue eyes. But she wasn't deaf. He could see that in her ears, which twitched as they picked up sound,

"Wh-who are you?" he stammered, suddenly afraid,

"In life," said the dark ginger she-cat, "I was Cherrystar."

"In life," said the white she-cat, "I was Froststar."

Darkstorm's eyes widened. He _couldn't_ be facing the first leaders! What had he done wrong? He had served his Clan to the best of his ability until they had chased him out and Forgotten him!

"We have brought you here to discuss your fate," said Cherrystar coldly. "You killed Silverfur in cold blood, a cat whose only mistake was to fall in love with your brother, Ashwhisker. You started a war between CherryClan and FrostClan to kill Silverfur. And yet you served your Clan as a warrior ought, always looking out for your Clanmates ahead of yourself."

"B-but," Darkstorm said, trying to muster the strength to argue, "Ashwhisker would have destroyed himself and my Clan! I was only doing him a favor..."

"Keep telling yourself that," growled Froststar. "Maybe it'll come true."

Darkstorm shrank from these two. They were all-powerful beings, supposedly able to control StarClan and their Clans. How could he oppose them? "What will you do to me?" he asked in a small voice.

"You aren't a good cat," said Froststar, almost mockingly. "You killed one of my Clanmates. How can you go to StarClan?"

"And yet you were a good warrior until Silverfur's death," said Cherrystar, the only hint of her anger glittering in those eyes. The eyes that every CherryClan cat was familiar with.

"We will offer you a deal," continued Cherrystar. "Most of the leaders and medicine cats of both CherryClan and FrostClan have agreed to this. You will be reincarnated and will have another chance to earn passage to StarClan. Or," she said, glancing at him, "the Dark Forest. It is your choice."

"However," said Froststar, "the price is losing your memories of this life. Forever. This is a part of the reincarnation process and no cat that has been reincarnated has regained their memories of their former selves."

"Or," said Cherrystar, "you can stay here. There is prey. There is water. But there is no weather, sunlight, moonlight, or any way to contact the Living World. It is the holding place for cats such as yourself. But you will be able to accept this deal at any time."

Darkstorm shivered. What deal was this? Lose himself or keep himself? He thought and he thought. The two leaders simply stared at him. Finally, he spoke.

"I'll be reincarnated." His voice sounded small, even to his ears. He would forget about his brother, Ashwhisker, whom he would always love and remember. He would forget about Silverfur, possibly the best thing that would ever happen to him. He would forget everything. "But I want to stay in CherryClan. My home."

Cherrystar smiled, the first kind expression that he had seen on her. "Follow me."

Darkstorm padded after the first leader of CherryClan into the light. He noticed that everything was getting darker around him, and he seemed smaller. He wondered what he would forget. There was something important, but he couldn't remember. It didn't matter anyways. He wondered what his brother would say when he saw him again. What brother? Did he even have one? And what was his own name? Something about the dark, he knew. But nothing else was remembered. He suddenly felt cramped and wailed, trying to get out. He looked down and saw that he was pushing. He was thinking in images and emotions, now, and had no concept of a word, let alone a sentence. He pushed himself out into the light again, and heard voices above the sound of his own wailing. His eyes were shut and he felt himself pushed towards something warm. Food. In the background, his mind latched onto one sentence and he understood it:

"His name will be Darkkit. Darkkit of CherryClan."


End file.
